


About Time

by Ariel_Tempest



Series: A Long Time Coming [1]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Post Series, Romance, Spoilers, no real surprises here, saw that coming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 13:18:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10900143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariel_Tempest/pseuds/Ariel_Tempest
Summary: Mr. Molsley asks a question that surprises both Miss Baxter and Thomas: Miss Baxter because she didn't see it coming, Thomas because he did.





	About Time

Miss Baxter stepped through the servant's entrance, not registering the shift from the bright spring sun to the electric lit shade of Downton's halls. She let the door close behind her, only barely recognizing the click of the latch on the edge of her consciousness. The corridor was empty, but she didn't notice, her feet carrying her, wrapped in her own thoughts, toward the servant's hall by instinct alone. 

She stepped into the servant's hall and was surprised to find the entire staff seated around the table, food in front of them. She had so completely forgotten the time that she'd nearly missed luncheon. Even faced with the evidence of a steaming shepherd's pie, it might have taken longer for her to realize what was going on if it hadn't been for Thomas.

"There you are," the butler smiled at her, his relaxed manner suggesting that the day had gone well so far. Over the course of the past two years most of the staff had gotten adept at reading his moods, far more than they had in the previous fifteen. "We were about to launch a search party."

"Sorry," Miss Baxter replied, almost too softly to be heard. She headed around the table to her customary seat with the same distracted air she'd had when she entered the room. Several of the others at the table exchanged concerned glances.

Thomas might have said something, he looked ready to say something, but Mrs. Hughes beat him to that particular punch. "Is everything alright?" the housekeeper asked. "You look shaken."

"Do I?" Miss Baxter replied, pulling just a little further out of her own thoughts, far enough to realize that everyone was looking at her. She smiled a little, self consciously. "I suppose I am. I've had a bit of a shock, but it's nothing bad. No need to worry." She proceeded to dish herself up some of the pie.

There was another round of glances. This time, by some unspoken agreement, it was Anna who asked, "Well if it's not bad, won't you tell us what it is?"

Miss Baxter stopped dead, the empty serving spoon hovering above her plate. Her eyes darted around the table, then dropped back to her food. "Mr. Molsley has just asked me to marry him. That's all."

"About sodding time!" Thomas's exclamation startled her. "I thought that man was going to wait for the pigs to sprout wings and start flying." There was a chorus of laughter around the table that as good as said the others agreed with him. "So, when's the wedding?"

"I doubt they've set a date yet, Mr. Barrow," Mrs. Hughes informed him.

"We haven't," Miss Baxter confirmed, resolutely not looking at any of them. She started to pick at her food. "Actually, I've not given him an answer yet."

Thomas stared at her a moment, as if trying to decide if she was being serious or not. Apparently he decided she was. "Why ever not?" he asked, utterly perplexed. "The two of you have been soft on each other practically since you arrived."

Miss Baxter paused again, still not looking up. "I don't know," she confessed, her eyebrows drawing together. "I wasn't expecting it." That was what she had told Mr. Molsley. She hadn't been expecting it. She hadn't been expecting the offer. She hadn't expected the way her heart leapt at his words. She hadn't expected the wave of utter terror that washed over her. 

That last one had been the big surprise. "I just, I need a bit of time to think first. That's all."

Thomas continued to stare at her, but Mrs. Hughes simply nodded and turned back to her meal. "And well you should. It is a rather big decision," the housekeeper agreed. She looked up and met Anna's eyes with a knowing smile. "It can be quite a change, going from working with a man to living with him."

"More for some than others, I think," Anna laughed, casting a sideways glance at her husband, then back at Mrs. Hughes.

The housekeeper only rolled her eyes and sighed, garnering another round of chuckles. While no one doubted she loved her now retired husband very much, it was not at all uncommon to pass her sitting room and hear her lamenting to Mrs. Patmore.

"Dare I ask what he's done this time?" Mr. Bates asked.

"Oh, nothing much," Mrs. Hughes replied, then started to relate the most recent of her matrimonial woes. The rest of the table went back to their food and camaraderie, leaving Miss Baxter to her own thoughts. Only Thomas continued to watch her, pale eyes searching for something, she couldn't guess what.

* * *

"You really haven't given him an answer?" 

Miss Baxter turned to look over her shoulder at Thomas. His presence might have startled her, but he'd not been careful leaving the house and she'd heard the door click shut behind him. "No, I haven't. I was too scared."

"Scared?" he frowned at her, lighting the cigarette he'd already pulled from his case and breathing out the first lungful of smoke. "Of what? That he'd tell you he was just joking?"

"Perhaps," Miss Baxter almost smiled, then turned back to watching the clouds, which was what she'd been doing before he joined her. Watching the clouds and trying to think. "I don't know, I really don't. I can't even begin to imagine why he asked to start with."

"Because he loves you," Thomas insisted, stepping closer. "It's like I've been telling you for years, except you always insisted I was wrong."

"But why would he?" she asked softly, as much to herself as to him. 

"Are you serious right now?" he stared at her as if she were a puzzle that was missing a piece and he was trying to find it. "Because you're the nicest person in the house. You might be the nicest person in the village."

"Stop that," she admonished, feeling her cheeks go warm, but unable to stop from smiling at the flattery.

He didn't stop. "I mean it!" He gave a soft huff of laughter, letting the last vestiges of his usual aloof manner, something he still normally clung to inside the Abbey's walls, fall aside. It was something, she suddenly realized, he really only ever did with her. Her and maybe Andy. "I don't know where you find your faith in people, how you see strength where everyone else just sees failure. You're easily the best friend I've ever had, and have been even when I didn't deserve it. Why wouldn't he love you? Why wouldn't he want to be with you for the rest of his life?"

"Because I'm not as good as everyone makes me out to be," she reminded him with patient resignation. "You know that."

The observation earned her a snort of absolute derision. "What, you did one bad thing years ago, and you've been punished for it. We've all made mistakes, done things we shouldn't have." He trailed off, looking at his hand. At first she thought he was looking at his cigarette, but then she realized he was actually looking at where the cuff ended. They were both perfectly aware that beneath the fabric, there was a thin pale line, a permanent reminder of how bleak his past was. "You've hardly fallen farther than the rest of us."

Gently, she reached out and touched the back of his left hand, the leather glove smooth beneath her fingers. "Why are you so worried about whether or not I get married?" she asked, her voice barely loud enough to reach his ears.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "It's like I said, you're my friend. You've seen the good in me when I couldn't see it myself. You've helped keep me going when I would have given up." He frowned, still not meeting her eyes, but instead looking off across the empty yard. "I've seen so many people who kicked dirt in my face go on to get their just reward and live happily ever after. I suppose, just this once, I want to see it happen to someone who deserves it. That's all." He looked over at her. "You do love him, don't you? You're not going to tell me I'm imagining that?"

Smiling, Miss Baxter shook her head. "No," she admitted, her voice still only just audible. "You aren't imagining that. I just can't quite dare believe that he loves me back."

For several minutes they fell into silence, Thomas watching her and her watching nothing in particular in the vicinity of his shoes. Finally he shook his head, flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette, and offered, "Look, if it makes you feel better about the whole thing, I'll volunteer to be the bride's maid."

He made the offer with such an earnest, dead pan expression that it took her several seconds before she realized he was joking and dissolved into laughter.


End file.
